All This Time
by BlueBomb
Summary: Oliver Queen has had many victories. Malcolm Merlyn, Slade Wilson, Ra's al Ghul, Damien Darhk— he overcame them all. But there was one enemy he didn't see coming. One enemy who took everything from him. And now, after the deaths of his friends, Oliver is going back, back to when it all began. And he will save them all.
1. Chapter 1

" _Time is an extremely fragile construct. Any deviation, no matter how small, could result in a cataclysm."_

Dr. Harrison Wells

* * *

It was well into the night, and all was silent. Rain fell from the tar-black clouds above, spraying the ground in a cold mist. The wind was biting, the air freezing. Every breath taken was like a million knives stabbing through one's lungs. No cars drove past. Every door was locked.

Oliver Queen had never seen Central City so shrouded by gloom.

He knew that he shouldn't be there. If he had done what needed to be done, if he had protected his city, then he would be at home, with his friends and family by his side. But he had no home, no friends, no family, to go back to. He had failed his city. He had failed his friends. He had failed himself.

All he had left was one chance. One chance to fix everything, to undo every mistake he'd made. And it depended on Barry Allen.

A trail of yellow lightning sizzled towards Oliver, his ticket to the past stopping in front of him. Barry had aged well in the past ten years. For someone in his thirties, he looked as if a day hadn't passed since the singularity tore a hole above Central City. Except… he had aged. Oliver could see it in his eyes. All the pain and sorrow Barry had suffered had hardened him, molded him into a better hero… but it had also deflated him. It was evident in the way he held himself. The slightest slouch in his shoulders, the almost permanent look of sadness etched on his face. Things were bad for him, and as far as he knew, they weren't about to get any better. Oliver was certain of this. He was certain, because he knew that was exactly what Barry saw in him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Barry. He sounded tired. Weary.

Oliver's eyes betrayed no emotion. Barry knew how important this was to him. "I'm sure."

"Oliver, if the Justice League find out– "

"They won't be able to do anything, Barry. Please. Get on with it."

The younger man looked at him, scowling. He didn't like this. "Okay. Remember, Oliver– when I open a rift into the Speed Force, you'll have to go inside it. Once you're in, you have to picture the exact moment you want to travel to. Focus your mind, and just your mind. If this works, only your consciousness will be taken back in time."

"What will happen to my body?"

"It'll be taken by the Speed Force. Oliver, you need to understand that after you go... there won't be a way back to the way things are."

"But that's just it, Barry." He smiled. "I can't live with the way things are."

With a nod, Barry closed his eyes in concentration. A flicker of electricity flitted beneath his skin. A split-second later, a large fissure of bright yellow light opened behind him, pulsating with energy. Oliver's gateway. His gateway to the past.

"Oliver, remember. Time is an extremely fragile construct. Any deviation can result in a cataclysm bigger than the last."

"I know," Oliver said, looking into his last remaining friend's eyes. "Thank you, Barry."

Despite everything, the speedster managed a smile, however slight though it was. "Good luck, Oliver." His features hardened into a look of fierce conviction. "Save them."

At that, Oliver stepped into the Speed Force.

A rush of memories, going as fast as they came. His father shooting himself. Billy Wintergreen's knife sliding beneath Oliver's ribs. Loosing three arrows into the Count's chest, the druglord tumbling through a window towards his death. Malcolm Merlyn, a drip in his arm, dying from Floyd Lawton's curare-laced bullet. Thea, shooting an arrow through Al Sahim's arm. Diggle and Lyla, happily married, holding their baby Sara. Ra's al Ghul, his sword through Oliver's chest. Felicity, looking into his eyes, telling him that she believes in him. His mother crumpling to the ground, dead, Thea wailing in anguish.

But he didn't focus on those memories. He focused on one: standing in Starling General Hospital, looking over his city for the first time in five years. And all of a sudden, he was there.

* * *

Starling City stretched out before him, bright, thriving… safe. The window offered Oliver little reflection of his appearance, but he knew he looked different. Gone was his beard, now reduced to stubble. His hair was much shorter, no longer reaching his shoulders. Less scars covered his body, the events that gave them to him having not yet happened. He looked younger, and yet the tragedies he had endured were still visible in his eyes.

The door opened behind him. Someone stepped inside. Someone he hadn't seen for far too long.

"Oliver?"

A tumult of emotions surged through him, overwhelmed him. He couldn't believe it. After all this time… A lump formed in his throat as he turned around to face his mother.

"Mom."

"Oh, my beautiful boy."

They hugged, and from that moment, Oliver knew that he couldn't change too much. Not yet. For now, he'd have to stick to the script. But he knew that was a stupid thing to think. Because he'd already done something different. He'd let a tear fall onto his mother's jacket. His mother.

She was alive.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Hey guys, thanks for reading. This is an idea I've had for a while, and I'd like to know if anyone would want to see this turn into a multi-chapter fic. Once again, thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**_The Watchtower_**

 ** _Fifteen Years From Now_**

"Where is he?"

Barry heard him coming from a mile away. Hal Jordan never was one for quiet. In all his years of working with the guy, Barry found that the one thing the Green Lantern never did was shut up, and in all honesty, that was one of his only redeeming qualities. It made a nice contrast to Oliver, who, though cheered up, still remained broody all these years. All these years, about to become undone by a very damaged man.

"Where's who, Hal?"

"You know exactly who I'm talking about, Barry. Oliver. He's gone and I know that you know where he is."

"Hal." Barry turned to face the man. "Can you really blame him for not being here after what happened? _Especially_ after what happened?"

"Jesus, Barry, you think I don't know that?" He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. "But the rest of the League wants to know where he is. Batman doesn't think he's stable. He thinks that he might do something rash."

"Yeah, well, Bruce isn't exactly stable himself, is he? Look, Oliver just lost more than the entire League ever has combined. The way I see it, he has every right to be unstable." Barry stepped closer to Hal. "I don't think it's anybody's business where Oliver is. So no, Hal- I don't know. And if I did, I wouldn't say."

"Did he at least leave a message?"

This time, Barry smirked. "Yeah. Yeah, he did." At that, he turned and left, leaving Hal behind in a trail of yellow lightning.

When he was gone, Hal spoke. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it," said Batman, stepping out from the shadows. His black cape trailed out of the darkness, an extension of it, framing his bulk. His eyes spoke of an always working intelligence, processing everything; working out the best solution for every situation. Right now, they also spoke of suspicion.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to ask Barry some of my own questions. He's hiding something, and we need to find out what that is."

"Are you really comfortable with this?" asked Hal. "Barry and Oliver, they're our team-mates. Our friends. They deserve our trust."

For a long time, Batman just stood there. "Not if they abuse it."

* * *

 ** _Queen Mansion_**

 ** _The Present_**

"Your room is exactly as you left it. I never had the heart to change a thing."

The last time this happened, Oliver hadn't listened much. He'd tuned her out, whether to cope with all the sudden change, or something else, he didn't know. But this time he listened, because her voice was a welcome thing. He'd missed it so much.

He stood in the doorway to his home, as he did last time, and took it all in for a brief few seconds. He'd missed this place. He'd forgotten how good it looked when it wasn't rubble.

"Oliver," said Walter Steele, his mother's husband, and as he came to learn, a much better one than his father ever was. He approached him and his mother, hand outstretched. "It's damn good to see you."

Just like last time, Oliver stared at him. Unlike last time, it wasn't from bafflement. It was from shock. _Must be something about seeing a dead man walking._

"It's Walter. Walter Steele?" pushed his stepfather.

"You remember Walter, your father's friend from the company."

He nodded, gave Walter a smile and shook his hand. It was then that he saw someone behind him, someone that he truly hadn't seen in far too long. He moved past Walter and took the woman's hands. "It's good to see you, Raisa."

She smiled wide, looking into his eyes. She always did see the best in him. "Welcome home, Mr Oliver." And in a not unfounded burst of deja vu, she addressed his mom, saying, "Mr Merlyn called. He wants to join you for dinner."

"Excellent," said Moira. "Oliver? Did you hear that?"

But his attention was elsewhere. Up the stairs, to be exact. Where his sister, his little sister, stood healthy, and young, and-

 _-explosions, smoke and ash. Death and destruction reigns supreme. And in the cataclysm, a single figure is visible. Hooded in red, bow in hand... Thea Queen. Speedy. She runs through the confusion, frantic, yelling one name, over and over. Eventually, however, she stops. Despite her fear, even she knows when all hope is lost. She yells out the name, one last time. "Ollie!"_

 _And everything goes black._

"Ollie? Are you okay?" she asked him, standing close, worry etched upon her face.

Slowly, he shook his head clean. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. I just remembered how there was a time when I thought that I'd never be with you again." He hugged her. "But then I remembered... you were with me the whole time."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Special than** **ks to _mjf2468_ and _Phillipe363_ for reviewing, and to all those who followed and added this story to their favourites. It means a lot to me. **

**So I've decided to keep this thing going. This chapter is about what you can expect in terms of length on a bad day. On a good posting day, which I'm hoping to be every Saturday, you'll get a bit more length and story out of me. I hope that, overall, that's an enjoyable experience for us all.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

He remembered when they took the picture. The one in the foyer, of him and his dad. Oliver was eight, if he recalled correctly, when Raisa ushered him into the house for it. It was a sunny day, one he'd spent the majority of messing around with Tommy; Tommy Merlyn, his best friend in life, alive in this timeline, but dead to Oliver for over sixteen years. To think that he was still alive was completely absurd to him, despite the evidence around him that Barry's gateway worked. Despite the fact that his mother walked, Walter talked and his sister thrived, Oliver just couldn't get his head around seeing Tommy Merlyn again. Simply put, he didn't think it possible.

He remembered one more thing about the picture. The very same week it was taken, a young boy, privileged, like Oliver, lost his parents in a mugging. That boy was Bruce Wayne, a man that Oliver knew to be making his début in Gotham right around now. He'd do it quietly. Stick to the shadows. In time, he would become an urban legend. For the next six years, he'd remain nothing more. And then the Justice League would form, and one of the most dangerous men on the planet would expose himself for the first time.

 _Bruce Wayne._ Oliver didn't know why, but he had a strange feeling that he'd be seeing him soon. A strange notion, considering that according to time, they wouldn't meet for another five years. And if there was one lecture that had stuck with Oliver, it was one of Barry's: "Time isn't flexible. It has a script, and that script wants to be followed. No matter how much you try to change it, time will find a way to bring back the status quo."

"Are you speaking from experience?" Oliver had asked. They'd been having dinner, courtesy of Barry and Iris.

Barry looked up from his food, any vestige of a smile he'd had gone. He'd looked Oliver straight in the eye, and he'd said, "Yep." And that was all he had to say about it for the rest of the night.

God, he missed those dinners.

But thanks to Barry, he got the chance to have dinner with his family again. That was something he was always going to be grateful for. But that's not why he went back, to make up for lost time. No, he was there for a reason. To save them. And he needed to stay focused.

"What did I tell you? Yachts suck."

Just like that, focus went out the window. Oliver's breath hitched. Tommy. _Tommy._

"Tommy- " was all he managed before he wrapped his best friend in a hug, one that he'd be damned for if he let go. Tommy Merlyn. He was alive.

"Woah, Ollie. You're hugging me like I'm the one that died."

Despite everything, Oliver chuckled.

"I missed you, buddy," said Tommy.

"Okay, what else did you miss? Superbowl winners... Giants, Steelers, Saints, Packers, Giants again. A black president, that's new. Oh, and 'Lost'. They were all dead... I think."

They were at the dinner table, and Oliver was happy. There he was, sitting in his house, eating a delicious meal with his family, alive. Walter. His mom. Thea. Tommy. All of them living, breathing and eating right alongside him. It was too good to be true.

"What was it like there?"

And then it hit him. In his timeline, they were dead. All of them, be it through Merlyn, Deathstroke or someone else, they were dead, and there shouldn't have been anything that he could do about it, and yet here they were. Alive. And for some reason, that no longer filled him with joy. It crippled him.

"Excuse me," he said. His voice was raspy. He could feel his eyes watering. "I'm a bit out of it tonight. I need some time to get used to all of this. May I be excused from the table?"

The other three looked at him for a moment. Shocked. They didn't expect this. He didn't blame them. Neither did he.

"Of course, dear," said his mother. "If you need any of us, just call."

"Thank you," Oliver said, getting up from his chair. "Congratulations on your marriage, mom. Walter. I'm happy for you."

As he left, Tommy spoke. "Hey, tomorrow, buddy. You and me, let's do the city. Okay?"

"Sure."

Then he left for his bedroom, chuckling as Thea said, "I didn't say anything."

Because no matter how much you change things, the script wants to be followed.

* * *

 _ **The West-Allen Household**_

 _ **The Future**_

"No, please, Bruce. Make yourself at home."

It was five minutes prior that Bruce Wayne arrived at Barry's house, letting himself in the moment the door opened. He'd walked in and made straight for the living room, greeting Iris with a friendly kiss on the cheek before settling down on the couch. Under normal circumstances, Barry would have no problems with that. But these were not normal circumstances.

"Thank you for letting me come in, Barry," said the billionaire. Thankfully, he was out of his batsuit, a rare sight considering he spent most of his days as the fearsome vigilante. Now he was just Bruce Wayne in a suit, something which made Iris gush to no end.

"I didn't exactly let you come in. You let yourself in. There's a fine line between the two, Bruce. Now, can I help you with anything?" asked Barry.

"Yes," began Bruce, his face setting into stone. "Oliver. I want to know where he is."

Barry sighed. "You were there when I was talking with Hal." Silence. "You don't believe me."

"No, Barry," he stood up, walking to the speedster, "I don't. Tell me where he is."

"I don't know."

"Yes you do, and you will tell me. Oliver is unstable, and we need to stop him before he does something rash. You don't want to force me into action."

"Is that a threat?"

"Not if you tell me where he is and what he's planning."

"That's not going to happen."

"Don't do this, Barry," his eyes were pleading. "Don't make an enemy out of a friend."

"You can't be serious- "

"Daddy." _Oh, no_. It was his five year-old son. _Don_.

"Don," he said, crouching down to meet his eyes. "What are you doing up, buddy?"

"I heard voices. What's Bruce Wayne doing here?"

"Oh, he just came to talk for a little bit. He was just about leave." A glance at him confirmed that he heard, the man sending a nod his way. "Come on, bud. Let's take you back to bed. You know how Dawn gets when she's alone in the dark."

"Okay." With that, Barry took Don's hand, leading him out of the living room, knowing that when he returned, Bruce would be gone. But the shadow of his threat would loom ever closer.

* * *

 _ **Present Day**_

The door opened not long after he left the dinner table. He didn't bother to stop whoever it was from coming in. He didn't bother to ask them to knock. He just sat against the end of his bed, arms resting on his knees.

"Ollie?" It was Thea. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah... Yeah, come in."

She did so, skirting the foot of his bed and sitting down in front of him. She looked so pretty. So innocent. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Oliver said, fighting the lump in his throat. "I just need to get used to all this- to being around people again."

"Wouldn't being around people be a better solution than brooding in your room?"

"Yeah," he said, letting loose a small laugh. "It probably would be." He thought for a while about the last time he returned home, and of how rocky their relationship had been until he opened up to her. "Thea?"

"Yeah?"

"I... I want to tell you my story. One day."

"Okay." She looked at him questioningly. "Why not now?"

He looked at her, and his eyes clouded with foreboding. "Because there's something I have to do first. I will tell you, Speedy. I promise. Just not right now."

"Okay," she said, getting up. "I'll wait for it." She leaned down and kissed him on the temple. "I'm glad you're back, Ollie. I missed you." With that, she walked out of his room.

He closed his eyes to sleep a few minutes later. But every time he did, he couldn't cast an image out of his head... _Thea in her suit, an arrow through her heart, staring lifelessly at the ashen night sky._

* * *

 **A/N**

 **So... It's not quite Saturday yet, but I finished this chapter and figured that I might as well post it. Starting next weekend, I'll start following my posting schedule.**

 **Thank you all for taking the time to review, follow and favourite. I already said it last chapter, but it means a lot to me. There were some questions that I'm going to answer now, and I'd like you guys to know that I'm open to any others you might have, assuming that they're related to the story. Ask away!**

 ** _Philippe363:_ What the heck happened for everyone to die? All in good time, my friend. All in good time. In relation to Olicity, I can't promise that it won't show up some time in the future, but I can say that this will  not be an Olicity-centric story. It is an Oliver-centric story, about what Oliver is willing to do to change a really crappy future. Anything else is just a bonus.**

 _ **Highlander348:**_ **I'm happy to take suggestions from readers. As far as Thea becoming Speedy during the events of the first season goes, I'm not so sure. But I will say that Oliver is very aware that the last time she learned how to fight, it was through Merlyn, and that he is very intent on making sure that doesn't happen. So will he teach her how to fight? I don't know. Probably. ;)**

 **Speaking of suggestions, I want to ask: how do you think Oliver will handle his and Tommy's kidnapping the second time around? I'm interested to see what you think.**

 **Please don't forget to review. I want to make this the best story it can possibly be, and I can't do that without your help.**

 **Thanks guys, have a good one. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Oliver knocked on Thea's door, knowing full well what awaited him inside. His sister and her friend, Margo, were frantically hiding drugs at this moment, scared to get caught but not conscious of the consequences. Neither of them realised that they could die from what they were doing; but then again, they couldn't. At least not in Thea's case. Oliver would be damned before he let her die from an overdose.

He opened the door, greeted to the sight of Thea trying to look as innocent as possible, her friend attempting the same behind her at her desk. "Ollie," Thea exclaimed, in a voice that said, _'Nothing to see here, we did nothing wrong, please don't tell mom.'_

"Hey Speedy."

She sighed. "Worst nickname ever."

"What, always chasing after me as a kid? I thought it fit pretty well." He paused, looking meaningfully at her stuffed pockets. "Maybe it still does."

Taking that as her cue to leave, Margo walked out of the room. "See you at school, _Speedy_."

"Sorry about her."

 _Deja vu_.

"I have something for you," he said, just like last time, taking out the hozen, also like last time.

"You did not come back from a deserted island with a souvenir."

"It's a hozen. And in Buddhism, it symbolises reconnecting. I kept it in the hopes that one day, it would reconnect me with you." She took it, beaming. " And this way, I'm going to have to keep my promise."

"You're going to have to keep it anyway," she said, smiling even wider.

"A rock! That is sweet. You know, I want one of those t-shirts that says, 'my friend was a castaway, and all I got was this crappy shirt,'" said Tommy, leaning on the doorway. Oliver grinned. He'd missed this guy too much.

"Don't let him get you into too much trouble. You just got back. Take it slow," advised Thea. They hugged, Oliver kissing her on the temple, before Tommy cleared his throat.

"The city awaits."And at that, the duo exited Thea's room and entered the hallway. "Have you noticed how hot your sister's gotten?" A glare. "Because I have not."

"You might want to be careful, Tommy. As far as you know, she's your sister, too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, buddy. You tell me."

 **[****]**

"Your funeral blew." They were in Tommy's Mercedes, driving through the Glades.

 _Yeah. So did yours,_ thought Oliver. Regardless, he grinned, playing his part. He needed to follow the script, after all. "Did you get lucky?"

"Fish in a barrel. They were so _sad_."

"No," he groaned.

"And huggy. And I am counting on another target rich environment for your welcome home bash."

"At my what?"

"You came back from the dead. This calls for a party. You tell me where and when, I'll take care of everything." Tommy paused, looking out the window at the abandoned Queen Industrial factory. "And this city's gone to crap. Your dad sold his factory just in time. And why'd you want to drive through this neighbourhood, anyway?"

"No reason," Oliver said nonchalantly.

"So what'd you miss the most? Steaks at the Palm, drinks at the station, meaningless sex?"

And now was the time to deviate from the script. Oliver wanted to see Laurel desperately, but he remembered very clearly what emotions seeing him had elicited. He would see her another time, alone. "Steaks at the Palm sound good to me," he said with a grin.

The steaks were delicious, if not overpriced. When Oliver scoffed at the cheque, Tommy had raised his eyebrows in amusement. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Oliver replied. "I just forgot how expensive it is here."

"What does it matter? We're filthy rich!" exclaimed Tommy, turning heads at every table.

Ignoring them, Oliver said, "I guess spending so much time without money's made me a little more conscious of it."

"Right," stated Tommy, averting his gaze. He felt awkward, no doubt. Oliver didn't blame him.

"Hey, let's get out of here, okay? We have plenty to catch up on."

His best friend lit up immediately. "Let's get to it. This city won't know what hit it!"

Oliver smiled at his enthusiasm. He'd managed to come to terms with Tommy being alive, and was back to a constant feeling of amusement at the Merlyn heir's antics. He was just as he remembered.

They exited the restaurant, Oliver's eyes constantly roaming over the road. He knew what came next. They'd go to a secluded alley, where a black van would pull up containing three masked men, two of which would kidnap Oliver and Tommy as the other busies himself with his trigger-happy tendencies. But things would go down differently today. Tommy wouldn't be dragged into that mess.

"You okay, Ollie?" he asked, concerned. "You look edgy."

Oliver smiled at him. "I guess I'm just eager to get on this show on the road." He entered the Mercedes, parked along the curb in front of the restaurant. They drove for a few blocks before Oliver spotted the van tailing them. He glanced at Tommy, plastering a grin on his face. When they reached a traffic light, he spoke. "Hey, Tommy," he said, gaining his friend's attention, "You remember that dessert place at Nelson Plaza?"

"Oh, yeah. O'Shaughnessy's. Wanna go there?" asked Tommy, grinning back at him.

"What are we waiting for?"

 **[****]**

The van was gone by the time they finished dessert, but Oliver knew that it wasn't the last time he'd see it. His mother wanted to learn what he knew to protect him from Malcolm, and she would stop at nothing to do so. Unfortunately for Malcolm, Oliver knew everything, and this time, he _would_ be stopped. But for now, Oliver had to deal with his would-be kidnappers. Baby steps.

Instead of heading back home, he asked Tommy to drop him off in the Glades near Laurel's place of work, CNRI. Like last time, Tommy was reluctant, but he did as he was asked regardless.

Now in a secluded area, Oliver calmly walked into an alley and waited. Right on time, the van pulled in. Out came two men, hiding behind their red masks, pistols aimed at him. The dart hit home as one of them pulled the trigger, and Oliver felt its chemicals at work as he fell to the ground, slowly losing consciousness.

He awoke in a familiar warehouse, his head covered by a black bag. "Mr Queen." It was the masked men's leader. Mask #1. "Mr Queen!" He ripped off the bag obscuring Oliver's vision, waving his taser in front of his face. Oliver stared at the man in resentment. He may not die today, but he sure as hell won't walk, either. "Did your father survive that accident?"

Oliver kept quiet, still glaring. He balled his bound hands into fists, preparing for his next move.

"I ask the questions. You give me the answers."

Mask #1 glanced backwards at his colleagues, shrugging. He then brought down his taser, electrocuting Oliver's chest. Through gritted teeth, Oliver focused the pain into his hands, tugging with one on the other's thumb, dislocating it, allowing room for them to slip through their bonds.

"Did he make it to the island? Did he tell you anything?"

"Yes, he did," said Oliver, now smirking.

"What did he tell you, Mr Queen?"

"He told me... that the Green Arrow says hi."

"Wha- "

He was stopped short by Oliver's fist, which collided into his jaw, a sharp crack echoing as it broke from the blow. Before his colleagues could react, Oliver leapt to the nearest man, delivering a quick strike with his elbow, followed by a backhanded strike that sent the man sprawling. Behind him he heard the distinct sound of a rifle being primed; he allowed his instincts to take over, and he rolled to the left as bullets sped towards him, narrowly missing their mark. He turned and lunged at the shooter, raising his knee at the last moment, connecting with the man's chin. Blood burst from his mouth as he bit down on his own tongue, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Don't. Move."

Oliver froze. A sharp click echoed as Mask #1 turned off his pistol's safety. Slowly, he bent down, reaching out for the shooter's rifle.

"I said, don't move!" yelled Mask #1. He was panicked. Good.

His back still turned, Oliver unloaded the rifle, picking up the magazine.

"Get away from the gun, Mr Queen, or so help me, I will shoot you!"

"Okay," said Oliver, raising his hands above his head as he stood. "Take it easy."

"I'll take it however I li- "

Oliver didn't let him finish as he sent the magazine spinning into the middle of his forehead, knocking him out. He joined his colleagues on the ground. Despite himself, Oliver allowed a small smile to creep onto his face. He put his hands on his hips, sighing. Now came the unpleasant part.

 **[****]**

"So that's your story."

Detective Quentin Lance looked as spiteful as he'd looked the first time he took Oliver's statement on the Queens's living room couch. In front of him rested the sketch of a hooded man exactly the same as the first one Oliver had helped create. Opposite Oliver sat Walter and Moira, staring at the exchange intently. Raisa stood a respectful distance away, next Detective Hilton, Quentin's partner.

"A guy in a green hood, calling himself the ' _Green Arrow'_ , flew in and single-handedly knocked out three armed kidnappers. I mean, who is he? Why would he do that?" pressed Lance.

"I don't know," replied Oliver. "Find him and you can ask."

"Yeah," said Lance. His gaze was hateful, full of blame. This was not the way Oliver had wanted to reunite with him. It wasn't how one should meet the man that saved his life.

"Were you able to identify the men?" asked Moira, sensing the tension between the two. Oliver couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt at how easily she played the oblivious mother, pretending not to know a thing about the situation, when she had in fact orchestrated it. _How does she do it?_

"Scrubbed identities, untraceable weapons," spoke Hilton. "These were pros."

"Yeah. Well, they probably figured you'd pay a king's ransom to get your boy back, or a Queen's ransom, as it were," Lance quipped. "After all, a parent would do anything to keep their child safe."

Despite having been subject to that remark before, Oliver winced. Not the reunion he'd hoped for. But then again, what was he expecting?

"I don't find your tone appropriate, Detective," defended Moira.

"If Oliver can think of anything else, he'll be in touch. Thank you, gentlemen, for coming," said Walter, standing.

Lance stood, picking up his case files, letting loose a bitter chuckle. "Your luck never seems to run out, does it?"

Oliver did nothing but stare as Lance and Hilton left the room.

 **[****]**

The List. It felt so long ago when he'd last held it. After the Undertaking, Oliver had wanted nothing to do with it, or the Arrow. He'd failed. Tommy had died, along with five hundred and three other people in the Glades, and Oliver had failed. And yet here he was, back to when it all began, with the book that had started it all. He didn't need it. But flipping through its pages, he felt almost sentimental. It was what had set him on his path. The path that killed his friends.

 _Fire. Smoke filled the confines of CNRI. The walls threatened to come down at any moment. Everyone had left the building, leaving it empty. Empty, but for two people._

 _Thomas Merlyn lay on the ground. A piece of rebar extended from out his chest, a pool of blood expanding on his shirt. Over him crouched Oliver, dressed as the Vigilante._

" _Is- is Laurel safe? Is Laurel safe? I tried to get her out of here," said Tommy. Every word was a struggle. He was dying._

" _Yeah, yeah, you did. You saved her," Oliver said, desperation ringing in his voice. He had to save Tommy. He had to. "I'm going to get you out of here. You're going to be fine."_

" _Stop. I'm sorry."_

" _No. Don't apologise."_

" _I was angry. And I was jealous. I... I am my father."_

" _No. No, you're not."_

" _Did- did you kill him?"_

" _No."_

" _Thank you," breathed Tommy. That was the last thing he said. He was gone._

" _No! No, Tommy! Not again! Don't do this! No! Wake up!" Oliver shook him. Screamed at him. Anger welled within him. This was supposed to work. All the months spent planning, and for what? It didn't work. He couldn't save Tommy. He failed. "Wake up!"_

"You are different." He was snapped back to reality by Raisa, carrying a platter of food. The script. It wants to be followed. "Not like you to read a book."

He looked up from the List and smiled. Raisa. It had been so long. "I missed you, Raisa."

"No kitchen on the island," the maid said, returning his smile with warmth.

"No. No friends, either." Oliver rose from his chair, moving to take the platter from her. "Hey. Thank you."

She just smiled as he took the food and placed it on his coffee table.

"Do I really seem different?" he asked.

"No. You're still a good boy."

She always had seen the best in him. "Oh, I think we both know I wasn't."

"But a good heart," she persisted.

"I hope so. I want to be the person you always told me I could be."

Raisa nodded, love lining her face as her eyes roamed over Oliver's face. He wondered what she saw. Was it a lost soul, or a damaged man? Or was it both?

Maybe he could ask her later. But somehow, he doubted it. Time had other plans for him.

 **[****]**

He exited the house knowing full well who awaited him outside. A brother made dead by the cruelty of man. A friend made a stranger by the sands of time.

"Oliver," called his mother. He steeled himself. It would take all he had to keep his composure. "I want to introduce you to someone." She took him by the hand as Walter came to her side. Behind them stood the man that would become his blood brother. "John Diggle."

With what will he could muster, Oliver glanced at him. He looked so different. So serious. He was all business. But that would change. Oliver would see to it.

"He'll be accompanying you from now on," continued Moira.

A brief moment of silence followed. Then, "Okay."

Screw the script. This was his brother.

His mother lit up. "Excellent. He was the best candidate I could find. He'll provide you with the best protection possible."

This time, when Oliver looked at Diggle, he smiled, barely contained sadness and regret showing in his eyes. "I don't doubt it."

* * *

 _ **The Watchtower**_

 _ **The Future**_

"Oliver Queen has been missing for two days now," began Batman, addressing the Justice League. He'd called this meeting an hour ago, and within minutes they had all arrived, assembling at the Watchtower's conference room. All of them but one: Barry Allen, the Flash. The fastest man alive. He'd arrived late, entering the room and taking his seat all while piercing Bruce with a gaze of intense scrutiny and suspicion. "Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be a cause for concern," he continued. "But these are not normal circumstances. We all know what happened in Star City. We know that he blames himself for it. We also know that after his sister's death, he disappeared, not surfacing until last week, where he was spotted in Central City." He burrowed into Barry's eyes, searching for something that might help him. But all he saw was defiance. "And now, he's gone back into the shadows, and no one knows where he is."

"Where are you going with this, Bruce?" asked Clark, the Man of Steel. He eyed Batman with interest, but also a stern concern. He didn't know what to expect.

"I had no leads, no clues to hint me towards his whereabouts. Not until now." Bruce walked to the head of the conference table, where a keyboard awaited him. He typed a command, and behind him a holographic screen appeared. "I found this video buried deep within the Watchtower's database." He paused, looking at each of his allies. "It's a message. From Oliver."

He pressed a key, and Oliver appeared on the screen. He looked exhausted. Bags hung from under his bloodshot eyes. His shoulders were stooped, as if he was going to collapse at any second. His hair reached his shoulders, messy and tangled, as was his beard, grown long from neglect.

" _If you're watching this,"_ he said, _"Then you're probably wondering where I am."_ He smiled, but it wasn't a smile of friendly regard or warmth. It was a humourless smile, belonging to man who had lost everything. _"One year ago, my city was destroyed and everything I held dear was taken from me. But you all know that. You were the ones that helped clear up the bodies and the rubble, after all. Who was it that found my niece again? It was Diana, I think. Right? You found her with Laurel."_ He stopped, taking a shaky breath as a wiped his eyes. _"God, she was only five."_

"Oliver..." said Hal, sadness colouring his voice. Diana just watched the screen, her face impassive. That night was still fresh in her memory, Bruce knew. She'd seen too much then. Even the Princess of Themyscira had limits.

In the video, Oliver took a few breaths before he recovered. He gave a sad smile, then continued. _"I lost everything that night, and I never saw it coming. I could do nothing as I watched_ him _tear apart what I swore to protect. And when I killed him... When I killed him, I felt nothing. Because it didn't bring them back. It didn't bring John, or Felicity, or Connor, or Roy, or Laurel, or anyone back. In the end, he still succeeded, and I failed. I couldn't save them. But now I can."_

Bruce narrowed his eyes. _What is he talking about..._

" _After this message ends, none of you will ever see me again. I'll disappear. What I'm about to do... It can save them all, if it works. But who knows, right? Only time will tell."_ He regarded the viewers. One last glance. _"This is where I leave you."_ A laugh, short and humourless. _"Maybe the next time we meet, things will be better."_

And the video ended.

No one was ready when Bruce vaulted the conference table to where Barry was sitting. No one was ready when he grabbed him by his suit. And no one was ready when he snarled, "What did you do?"

Barry could have sped out of his grip. He could have launched Bruce across the room. But he didn't. He just looked calmly into the Batman's eyes. "You know what I did."

Bruce let go, taking a step back. "You sent him back in time. He's going to change everything."

Silence.

"Bring. Him. _Back._ "

"I can't," explained Barry, glaring at the man. "He's in his younger self's body. If I brought him back, that means that everything leading up to this point is undone, all because he wasn't there to make it happen." A pause. "I could always just send you back. But that wouldn't work, would it? It would just change the timeline even more. And you can't have that, can you?"

Bruce flared, but somehow managed to keep his composure. "Have you ever tried to change the past, Barry?"

Barry's jaw tightened. "Yes. I saved her. My mom."

"And what did that change?"

"Everything."

"So you know how much is at stake," Bruce reasoned. "Let me talk to Oliver. Bring him back before he changes too much."

"No," said Barry, with finality.

"Damn it, Barry," he roared, "I'm trying to save us all."

The fastest man alive just stared into his eyes, his conviction unwavering. "Have you ever given it thought, that maybe that's what Oliver's trying to do, too?" And then he left, walking out of the room without a second glance.

 **[****]**

 _ **STAR Labs, Central City**_

STAR Labs was once a place of innovation and invention, where bright minds came together to create the impossible. But when the impossible was finally created, it brought with it tragedy and death, and the STAR was forever disgraced. And then the Flash made his début, and so made his home in the labs that created him, and a prison of the particle accelerator below, designed to hold the most dangerous of metahumans.

It was there that the Batman stood, deep below ground in the workings of the Pipeline, in front of a single cell, isolated from the rest. Its occupant stared with open malice at the vigilante, malice that changed into curiosity as Bruce typed a code into the cell's keypad, opening the door.

"Batman," said Eobard Thawne, stepping out from his confines. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"You're going to help me."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Fun fact: O'Shaughnessy's is actually a fictional fast food restaurant that first appeared in Green Arrow Vol 2, Issue 94 in February, 1995.**

 **I'd like to apologise for not updating last Saturday, as I said I would. Some things came up, and as far as I'm aware will keep me busy for a while, so for the time being I'm going to have to change the posting schedule to a bi-weekly thing. Sorry about that.**

 **Next chapter will be the last one taking place during the events of the Pilot. After that we'll see the plot move forward a bit as Oliver gets re-acquainted with everyone and his nostalgia starts to fade.**

 **Thanks for reading. Don't forget to review!**


	5. Author's Note

**A/N.**

 _Hey, everyone. I think I owe you all an apology. I started this story believing that I'll finish it, but I realised pretty quickly that not only was I losing time to write it, but interest in doing so, as well. However, I should have told you all instead of leaving you out to dry, wondering when the next chapter is going up, if at all. So, sorry about that. I really am. I was having trouble finding the time to write, and was really (and still am) really unsatisfied with the level of writing I put into this._

 _But, if you're at all interested, I think that there's a story or two in the works that you may like, probably a Flarrow arc. If you want any hints, just look to the 'Spiderverse' storyline and the second season of 'the Flash'. To save some of you from googling, they both involve the multiverse as a very prominent plot device._

 _If that sounds like it might interest you, then maybe stick around for whenever it may appear. If not, then that's completely cool._

 _Once again, I'm really sorry that I left all you beautiful readers hanging, and I hope that we'll cross paths on this site again._

 _Thanks,_

 _BB_


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